Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Priscilla knew it was a very personal question for a first meeting but he’d asked her several so it only seemed fair. But as the silence stretched out, she wondered if she’d erred. Then again, however he answered, she’d learn a great deal about the man.
Did he have a temper?
Did he dislike a woman who spoke her mind?
She drew in a deep breath as she waited.
He turned into the park, drawing the carriage to a slow roll despite the fact no one was about. “I was attacked by a group of thieves. Outnumbered, they both stole all my belongings and did a fair bit of physical damage to my person.”
Priscilla cringed. What other scars did he bear under his clothes? “I hope I haven’t offended you in asking.”
He shook his hand. “Not at all. It was more than fair.”
She relaxed a bit at his words. Even-tempered and yet strong enough to cut Eugene with a single remark, he was proving an excellent potential suitor.
“So you don’t wish to participate in society, and I’ve been all but forbidden from doing so.”
He gave a nod, pulling the carriage to a stop. “Accurate.”
She turned toward him, his handsome profile doing strange things to her pulse.
Which she could not afford. This wasn’t her romantic fantasy and there was no room for mushy emotions.
This decision would be about her father’s fortune, not her perspiring palms. “And what do you hope to achieve with a match from me?”
He turned to face her as well, his scar coming into view. “I need a suitable bride and a son to ensure that what happened to your father’s earldom does not befall my title.”
Her breath caught as she dared to hope… “And my dowry? My funds?”
“My viscountcy is well-funded. They’ll be yours to manage as you see fit.”
Her breath caught in her throat as understanding made her knees weak with relief.
Did he even know what he’d just offered?
She’d not tell him how much was there, he might change his mind if she did.
But to manage the money herself…grow the funds and pass it along to her sons and daughters… “I’d like that very much.”
He gave a stiff nod. “Good. So we’re agreed upon the terms. You’d like to maintain control of your inheritance, I’d like a child. You need to escape your guardian, and I society. All in all, this seems to be a fair trade.”
“All in all,” she murmured as he picked up the reins and snapped them, sending the carriage into motion again.
“Is there anything you still need to know?” he asked as he drove.
Some unnamed fear tickled at the back of her thoughts.
He’d assured her the money would be safe in her hands and with that, she’d fulfill all the unspoken promises she’d made to her father before his death.
As she’d watched him take his last breath, she’d told herself that she’d guard the assets he’d built with all the lessons he’d imparted upon her.
“Well…” she started, shifting in her seat, which made her knee brush his. A little bolt of awareness pulsed through her. “I suppose that I require…”
“Yes?”
She took a deep breath. She’d be trusting him with her life.
Her mother’s. Pressing as her situation was, more information would help her to make certain she wasn’t making a mistake.
Overall she liked this man, but there was a wariness to his eyes and a distance that she sensed. “To know you better.”
He looked exactly the same and yet, if she weren’t mistaken, as she said those words, he tensed, every muscle growing more taut. “To know me better?”
She nodded. As a woman, she placed her well-being in his hands when she married him.
At least for the next four years until she had full access to her funds.
“Eugene looks like a lamb, but underneath…” Her gaze cast out onto the scenery of a park.
“I’d like to know that we’re compatible, if nothing else. ”
He let out a long breath at her last words. “Compatible? That’s reasonable.”
The footman behind them coughed again. Priscilla stole the smallest glance back at him. Funny. He looked like a rougher, larger version of Lord Ware. Same dark hair, albeit less groomed, same thick muscles, even thicker, same square jaw minus one scar.
And what servant ever commented in the middle of a conversation? Curious.
“What do you wish to know?”
They trotted along, the quiet paths peaceful as birds called around them.
She smiled a bit at the question. “The question I’m tempted to ask is what sort of man are you, though it’s likely useless to ask, isn’t it?
If I asked my cousin what sort of man he was, he’d likely tell me enterprising, shrewd, he might even say kindhearted. ”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “You wish to know what kind of man I am? I’d rather hoped for a question more like, what’s your favorite color.”
That made her giggle, easing some of the tension.
“Fair point. The topic was a bit deep to broach for our first outing, wasn’t it?
We just didn’t talk much when we met a few days ago and I thought to learn about you as quickly as possible.
While I asked to get to know you, I am also aware our time to make a decision is somewhat limited. ”
He was quiet for a moment before he answered. “Well, the first thing I can tell you is that I am decisive by nature. In fact, I’ve already decided. I’ll wed you if you’ll have me.”
“Praise be to the Lord,” the footman said from behind them.
Priscilla raised her brows. There was no way he was an actual servant. She turned about again, holding out her hand. “Lady Priscilla Applegate, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
His ruddy cheeks turned even brighter red. “Mr. Ralph Fitzroy.” And then he took her hand quickly in his.
“Decisive,” she repeated as she turned back to Viscount Ware. “I see.”
“And you? What’s a defining characteristic of yours?”
Priscilla had to shake her head. She’d had a few suitors and none of those interactions had been quite like this… “Hmmm. Committed, I suppose. To my father’s legacy and the future of that endowment.”
They looped down a smaller path, the trees about them growing thicker, adding an air of intimacy to the ride.
“Admirable,” he replied, easily handling the carriage as they continued on at the same speed.
She searched for another question, one that might tell her more about the man who sat next to her, who offered her an alternative to Eugene. It would be so easy to trust him, but a shrewd businessperson carefully assessed each option.
She glanced over at Lord Ware’s profile again. If she were forced to marry Eugene, she knew exactly how that life would look, awful as that future may be, it was also completely clear.
But the man next to her?
He was still a complete mystery.
* * *
Wyatt stood in the shadow of the alley, watching as a crowd left the Adelphi Theater.
There had been several robberies at this location and he’d yet to apprehend the culprits.
This theater, which catered more to clerks of barristers and solicitors, had the sort of clientele who could not afford to be robbed regularly.
Someone had to put a stop this kind of crime.
“You look ridiculous in that cape,” Ralph muttered from next to him, his gaze travelling disdainfully from the high collar that partially hid his face to the long, billowing folds.
“I do not and you should have worn yours. I had one made for you.”
“When I punch a man, I want him to see my face and know that I’m the man who made him suffer.”
Wyatt looked over at him, one side of his mouth turning down. In his younger days he’d eschewed all violence, believing it was the path for weaker men who lacked the discipline to control their emotions.
He still preferred to keep his feelings within a tight control, but now he preferred to use measured aggression to protect the people who could not protect themselves. “My face is too notable to chase criminals openly.”
“Or you just like keeping everyone at arm’s length. Figuratively speaking, that is.”
“Are you referring to the length of my jab?”
“I was referring to your mask and how you use it to keep others at a distance.”
He’d like to jab Ralph in this moment. “That’s ridiculous. I only wear the mask when I’m out at night.”
“Which is the only time you’re out. You’ve been hiding yourself away.”
“You know how like a woman you are, don’t you?”
“I’m not the one wearing a fancy mask and cape.” Ralph took another long pull on his cheroot.
Wyatt choked on a laugh despite himself. “Fair point.”
“Even with the lady today. Lady Priscilla Applegate.”
Wyatt straightened, his hackles rising. “What about her?”
Even in the dark, one corner of Ralph’s mouth tipped up. “Did I detect a defensive tone? Well, there’s something. Feeling a bit sensitive, are we?”
His fists clenched at his sides. The truth was, he had been. From his reaction to her story about Eugene to his response to her scent, the sight of her, she pulled at him in ways that no one had in years.
Which was ridiculous. She was an arranged match through a newspaper ad. One that Ralph had insisted he attend. The entire point had been not to feel. Something he was usually exceptionally good at.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Perhaps you’ve just gone too long without a connection to anyone, but you actually got all upset when she talked about that cousin—”
“Enough,” Wyatt cut him off with a hard push to Ralph’s chest. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”
“Fine,” Ralph said. “I’m glad to know you’ll wed, at least.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Ralph why he cared so much. But he knew. Ralph was his family and they took care of one another. Just on the other side of the street, a lone couple walked, stragglers from the group that had left the theater.
Behind the couple, the shadows shifted.
“Did you see that?”
Ralph shook his head, snubbing out his cheroot. “No but don’t think I don’t know that in this regard, your skills far surpass my own.”
“Did you just admit I’m better than you at something?”
Ralph cocked his head. “Now I see it too. How many do you think there are?”
Wyatt moved closer as the couple passed by, strolling arm and arm. “Too many.”
“Why are we waiting?”
“To make sure they actually—” He’d been about to say attack when the first man stepped from the dark alley and made his move.
Jumping from the shadows, he grabbed the theatergoer from behind, locking an arm about the man’s neck.
Wyatt sprung forward, sure Ralph would follow, as four other men poured from the shadows, grabbing the woman, punching the man, pulling at their clothes and other items.
Ralph passed him, letting out a guttural cry that made all five thieves pause.
Wyatt made a note to remember that trick as his cape flapped behind him.
He watched Ralph’s fist fly back and then land in a thief’s face, sending the fellow crashing to the ground.
Wyatt shifted to tackle the thief, locking his arm around the thief’s neck. His punch didn’t have quite the same power as Ralph’s so he settled for heaving his body into the man’s side, his elbow catching the villain just under the ribs.
A sick cry and a rush of air left the man as he slid to the ground. Wyatt had hardly looked up when he realized Ralph had already bested two more men, the last running for his life down the street.
“It’s you,” the woman gushed, dropping to her knees as she reached for her companion. “Harold, we’ve been saved by the Bushy Hero.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes behind his mask. Of all the names… “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” the man answered, his voice rough as he gingerly rose, pulling the woman up too.
“Where’s your carriage?”
“We walked,” the lady supplied as she brushed off her skirts. “We were going to find a hack to take us home.”
“Catch a hack and report to The New Police in the morning to give a statement.”
With a nod, they disappeared even as Ralph began hog-tying the half-conscious men. “I think I’ll come out with you at least until we get you to the altar.”
Wyatt shook his head. He’d be a lot less sore in the morning with Ralph’s help, that was for certain.
But the fights and the aching muscles had become his way of numbing all the real pain.
Besides, Ralph had spent his whole life protecting Wyatt.
The whole point was for Wyatt to give back to Ralph and the rest of the world too. “I don’t need you to come.”
Ralph stood, his hands coming to his hips. “Please. You’re a crap fighter when it comes to large groups.”
He lifted a brow. “You know a good one?”
“Me,” Ralph grunted. “Now help me tie up a few of these culprits. I’d like to make it to bed before dawn.”
That wasn’t a half bad idea. Tomorrow, he’d pay another visit to Lady Priscilla and her odious cousin. He’d need his strength.